Page 16 of These Unhallowed Halls (Equinox Seasons Duet #2)

Ten-Tight Confines if she didn’t get regulated soon, she was going to drop into the space between and get stuck there.

“Hang in there, Lizzie. Harkert’s getting stuff for you.”

I glanced over my shoulder as I went to the thick, wooden cabinet behind my desk, pulling open the small doors and drawers to gather up everything I needed. Temperance sat on the couch near Lizzie, holding her hand as she peered down at her unconscious face. I needed to act quickly.

I yanked out the glass vials of bezor and magnesia, sniffing the bit of yarrow root and willowbark I had on hand to ensure it was still fresh.

Dumping them all in a mortar that sat on the wood lip of this breakfront cabinet, I ground them with the pestle, using enough force to crush them all down quickly.

The mixture began to subtly smoke from the effort put in, and I blindly reached for the moon water I knew was somewhere at my right.

“Come on,” I whispered, finally grasping the bottle and pouring in a hefty amount until the solution was ready.

Bottling it up, I rushed it over to Lizzie. I scooped under her head, angling it back so that I could part her lips with the edge of my hand by pushing down on her chin. She opened, and I delicately poured a few drops of the liquid into her mouth, being sure to let them absorb before I poured more.

“What is that?” Temperance’s voice was so quiet as she spoke, and I looked over at her, still cradling Lizzie’s head.

“It’s a grounding tonic essentially. It’ll draw Lizzie’s consciousness back to her body instead of the in between that’s calling her. A side effect of gazing into a dead person, I’m afraid.”

Her eyes glassy with unshed tears, Temperance squeezed Lizzie’s hand. “How do you know about this?”

“I don’t know as much as I’d like. I’m going off the limited knowledge I have and doing my best. The school taught me a fair bit about magic and spellcraft, but unfortunately, a morrighan is so rare that much of what I learned went used for so long. I’m trying to remember it all.”

I dropped more of the tonic into Lizzie’s mouth, watching the grayish-yellow mixture disappear on her tongue.

The room sank into silence as Temperance and I waited.

I could hear more rain pattering against my window, the ornate stained glass still quite thin and doing little to dull the noise.

Wind howled, and I took off my glasses, setting them down on the coffee table in front of the couch as I adjusted my hold on Lizzie.

Her breath lifted her chest slowly, but it was picking up. Her color was getting better, too.

“Ugh!” Lizzie shot upright on the couch, nearly smashing her face into mine. “The fuck?! Where—Why does my mouth taste like shit?”

“You’re okay!” Temperance launched herself into Lizzie’s arms, a chuckle breaking through a sob.

Leaning back, I shuffled down the couch and then stood, giving the two of them some space. With a smile, I looked on as Temperance took Lizzie’s face in her hands, shaking her head. The tension in my chest lessened, and I let out a sigh as Lizzie finally smiled back at her stepsister.

“Don’t do that to me ever again. I didn’t know what happened. You just dropped. Crumpled up like a flower or something.”

Lizzie chuckled, dropping her forehead to Temperance’s. “I’ll do my best. Did you seriously wake me up with the world’s worst-tasting shot, though?”

“I did not.” Lizzie’s eyes met mine as she looked past Temperance, resting her chin on her stepsister’s shoulder. “It was a grounding tonic on crack, with a little desperation mixed in.”

Sitting back, Lizzie smirked as Temperance joined her on the couch. I walked in line with it, resting back against the edge of my desk. This office was cramped, but at least the furniture was all solid wood and high-quality.

“Desperation, huh?” Crossing her arms over her chest, Lizzie stared up at me, not bothered by how Temperance rested her head on her shoulder.

“You would have felt the same had you seen Temperance’s face. If I didn’t bring you back, I’m fairly certain she would have killed me.”

That made Lizzie’s brows shoot up, and she turned to her stepsister, who was blushing bright pink under that warm tan skin of hers. The corner of Lizzie’s mouth lifted, and she reached up to tuck a long brown curl behind Temperance’s ear.

“Worried about me?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Temperance playfully shooed Lizzie away. “Of course, I was worried.”

They both eyed each other for a while, and suddenly, I felt like I was intruding on a private moment.

I didn’t think they realized it, however.

Still, I cleared my throat and circled my desk, reaching into the lower drawer for that bottle of scotch and a rocks glass.

Sitting down in the plush leather chair, I poured myself a few fingers’ worth of the stuff and took a long sip.

“Mind sending a bit of that over here? I really need to get that taste out of my mouth.”

Looking up, I rolled my eyes and restrained a laugh as Lizzie raised a hand, waiting until I nodded before she glided it through the air to herself. She took a sip from the bottle, making a face as she swallowed the strong liquor, and then offered it to Temperance.

“Really? Umm…oh, what the hell. Today sucked.”

Closing her eyes, Temperance put the scotch to her lips and barely made it through a drink before she coughed and shoved it back toward Lizzie. That broke my resolved, and I laughed, shaking my head as Lizzie took one more drink and then set the bottle down on the table.

“We should discuss what happened today as well. Your vision implicates a serious magic user or users who were responsible for this killing. And unfortunately, what the dead didn’t tell you was that there have, in fact, been several students and townsfolk going missing for the past week or so now. Just before the session started.”

“Several?” Temperance’s expression dropped, and she sat up straighter in her seat, looking between Lizzie and me.

“Yes. The profession I took over for, along with a groundskeeper and two other students. This attack puts the total up to four. That may sound small, but—”

“Any amount of dead people is too much.” Lizzie eyed me, nodding along. “We hear you. So what else do we know about who’s doing this?”

“Little, I’m afraid. The school has been targeted in the past by rivals or humans, but this is the first time that magic has been involved.

Night Grove has not seen this many deaths before, either.

In the past…when, umm,” my voice catches as I remember how dark the world seemed when I was Lizzie and Temperance’s age, the frenzied fervor of the bigoted crowd who thought they knew what this school was about, “there was a close-call as it were. Humans with rather narrow beliefs were getting louder and louder about their dislike of Night Grove. A couple who lived here in Rockport was killed, and that encouraged the school to take on greater precautions, and the less radical humans backed off.”

Silence hung around the three of us, and then I heard the springs in the couch adjusting, looking up to see Lizzie staring me down with curiosity and concern.

“Your parents…they were your parents, weren’t they?”

Sighing, I gulped down another mouthful of the scotch, dropping my face so that I saw only the open pages of the old book in front of me. I’d been reading up on transmutation because the circus display still didn’t sit right with me.

The words peered up from the pages, taunting me with their vague explanations of how an injury could look real but not affect the person at all.

“Yes. They were.” I was speaking before I even realized it, still focused on the book, the yellowing of the pages, and the scent of old paper and leather.

“I was there the night they were killed. Humans who thought we were monsters. I was a student here at the time, but I left shortly after. I couldn’t…

I couldn’t face the constant reminders.”

“I know what you mean.” Finally pulling my attention away from the book, I glanced up at Temperance. “So much of my dad still lives in our old house. My mother has redecorated and moved on, but I can feel his essence lingering there, the scent of his aftershave permanently perfuming the air.”

There was a quiet understanding between us, and I held Temperance’s eyes, squeezing the bottle of scotch so hard that I was sure it would crack.

Grief didn’t just fade away. It simply became a part of your life, a new weight to carry around on your shoulders.

It was always there; you just got used to the press of it.